An Unexpected Visitor
by TheFandomCalls
Summary: It was the coldest, most miserable winter Hermione had ever experienced. Harry was dull and listless. The other one's name wasn't even worth mentioning. But her day became much better with the arrival in the woods of a blue police box and it's slightly mad owner.


Hermione sighed as she tried to find a more comfortable position on her bunk as she perused _Hogwarts: A History_ for the umpteenth time. It only reinforced how much she missed the place, but she read it anyway because it was a connection, albeit a tenuous one, to the place that had never let her down.

She looked at Harry, who was lying on his bed, throwing his Snitch up in the air and catching it, letting it fly higher and higher each time. These days, he was spending more and more time lying listlessly in bed. Sometimes whole days passed without them exchanging a single word. Hermione sometimes wondered whether she and Harry would have been friends at all if not for Ron. She pushed all thoughts of the redheaded git out of her mind, not wanting another crying session in the shower.

Instead she focused her thoughts on her best friend and the steep slope of depression he seemed to be sliding down. She supposed that a conversation about something other than the origin of their next meal would be a good start in her effort to help him out of his listlessness.

"You know," she began "When I was little, I didn't watch much television, but there was this one program I loved. It was called _Doctor Who"._

Harry had stopped his game with the Snitch and rolled onto his side to face her. He didn't speak, though, so she continued, feeling slightly self-conscious for some reason.

"It was about this alien called the Doctor who travelled through all of time and space in a blue police box called the TARDIS," she said, realising as she finished her sentence that she was using what the boys called her 'swot voice', the voice she used while answering questions in class. Harry seemed to have realised it as well. However, instead of his usual teasing smirk, his slight smile conveyed affection and a sort of exasperated fondness. "The Dursleys didn't let Dudley watch it" he said, his voice slightly hoarse from disuse.

"I guess it was too much like magic for them", he continued. "I did watch it for a while though, because Dudley had swimming lessons on Saturdays and I used to sneak down and watch some telly." His voice was a little wistful, not for his relatives, she knew, but for how innocent he had been back then. She gave a small sigh, remembering how innocent and wide-eyed they had all been.

 _We could have been killed. Or worse, expelled._ She wondered how her twelve-year old self would react if she knew that she would drop out of school. The thought made her smile a little.

"Sometimes," Hermione said, "I used to fantasize about the Doctor coming to get me in his TARDIS and how we'd save planets and I could get away from all the horrid girls at school."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short on hearing a wheezing, groaning noise from outside, followed by a loud thud. They exchanged a look and hurried outside the tent with their wands drawn.

After spending seven years in the wizarding world as Harry Potter's best friend, Hermione Granger thought nothing could surprise her.

She was wrong.

Because twenty feet in front of her disbelieving eyes sat a blue police box. She watched, wand raised, as the door of the box opened and two people, a man and a woman, stepped outside. The woman was dark-skinned and of average height, while the man was tall, skinny and had ridiculously spiky hair. He wore a brown trench coat, a brown pinstriped suit and red trainers that were a stark contrast to the snow surrounding them.

There was no way two people could have comfortably fit inside that box. Unless it was bigger on the inside. _Don't be ridiculous,_ she told herself sternly. Her current living quarters themselves were an example of 'bigger on the inside'.

"Hermione," Harry hissed. "That's Barty Crouch Jr."

"Are you sure?" she whispered. "I mean, he's-"

"Soulless, I know," Harry said. "But trust me; his is _not_ a face I would forget."

"Anyway, the wards seem to be holding up," she said. She and Harry watched as the man took some sort of silver stick with a glowing blue tip out of his coat and began waving it around while it made a whirring noise.

"Doctor, where and when are we?" the woman asked. Hermione and Harry exchanged looks of equal terror and bafflement.

"I think we've fallen through a rift in time and space," the man said. "We've landed in a parallel universe."

"Hang on," the woman said. "You said Rose was trapped in a parallel universe and that there was no way for you to reach her."

"This is a different universe. Different energy signature. And us coming here was a complete accident. Aha!" he exclaimed, and turned to where a very confused witch and wizard were standing.

"Hello! I couldn't see you before, were you using perception filters? And it'd be awfully helpful if you could tell me the date and where exactly we are, I get confused somet-"

"How are you alive?" Harry asked, interrupting the man's rapid speech. "You died, Crouch."

The man frowned. "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else," he said. "I'm not this Crouch person, I'm the Doctor, and this is Martha."

"You're Barty Crouch Jr.," Harry said. "You got kissed by a Dementor, there were witnesses!"

"Barty Crouch Jr." the woman, Martha, said slowly. "Isn't he from Harry Potter?"

"What?" Harry and Hermione asked simultaneously. The man who called himself the Doctor had a look of dawning comprehension on his face. "What are your names?" he asked.

Neither of them answered. Instead Hermione spoke to Harry. "They can't be Death Eaters," she said. "They didn't recognize you."

"They could be pretending," he said through gritted teeth.

"Well then, it hardly matters if we give our names, right?" Harry looked at her closely. "You think he's actually _that_ Doctor, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course not," she replied haughtily. "It's just- they haven't attacked us yet." Ignoring Harry's noise of protest, she stepped forward. "I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Harry Potter. If you're Death Eaters, you already knew that and we should be at the mercy of You-Know-Who by know. If you're not, well, who in the name of Merlin are you?" Both the strangers stared at her with open mouths, clearly at a loss for words.

Harry looked both displeased and impressed with her little speech. "Are you Muggles?" he asked.

"Well, she is, I'm not," the Doctor said.

"Of course you're a Muggle!" Martha said. "You haven't got magic."

"I'm not even human," he said, with the air of someone pointing out the obvious. "You haven't got magic. Means you're a Muggle," Martha said, crossing her arms. This evoked a childish pout in the Doctor. He looked so much like an adorable five-year old that Hermione decided that this man couldn't possibly be Barty Crouch Jr. or in league with You-Know-Who.

However, the pout vanished as soon as it came, replaced by a delighted expression akin to that of child on Christmas morning. "But Martha, look! It's the real Harry Potter and Hermione Granger!"

"What do you mean, _real_?" Hermione asked.

"Look, you can either explain what's going on and who the hell you are, or we can just Stun you or wipe your memories," Harry said, his patience clearly running out.

"Alright, alright, no need for spells," the Doctor said, putting his hands up in the air. "Like I said before, I'm the Doctor, this is Martha Jones and we travel through time and space in that blue box, it's called a TARDIS. We're from a parallel universe where your story, Harry, is a book series of seven books, most popular series ever! They're even gonna make a theme park!"

"Really?" Martha asked. "A theme park?"

"Oops," he said. "You're not supposed to know that, spoilers. Anyway," he said, looking more serious. "Do you believe us?"

To Hermione's surprise, Harry lowered his wand. "They seem to be telling the truth," he said carefully. "Yeah," she said. "Just one thing. How did you break our wards?"

"I don't know, but I have a theory, and my theories are almost always right. The magic you used is probably a manipulation of energy from your surroundings which you channel through your wands. So my sonic screwdriver just had to find the same resonant energy as your wards to break them," he said without stopping for breath.

Harry had the slightly bemused look he often wore in Transfiguration class. "Why don't you come in?" he asked. "We can talk."

"It's bigger on the inside," Martha said happily as they entered the tent. Hermione noted that she sounded delighted but not surprised.

"So's my ship," the Doctor muttered petulantly. "Yeah, but this is _magic_ ," she responded, eliciting yet another adorable pout from the man. The four of them sat on the bunks, Harry and Hermione facing the other two.

"So," she began feeling slightly awkward. "You're from a parallel world where Harry's story is a book series."

"Yup," he replied, popping the 'p'. "Let me guess, it's winter of 1997 for you. You've found the locket Horcrux but you don't have a way to destroy it."

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, clearly unnerved by the other man's knowledge.

"The thing is," Hermione said," Here, in our universe, there's a show about you on the telly, called Doctor Who."

"A show? About me?" The Doctor looked both vaguely disturbed and immensely pleased.

"Oh no," Martha groaned. "You've gone and inflated his head even more."

"Oi!"

"But," Martha continued, ignoring him, "How come you didn't recognize us if there's a show about him?"

"It was cancelled," Hermione said. "During the seventh Doctor's time. I suppose you're a future regeneration."

"Cancelled?!" he cried, looking supremely insulted. " A show about me was cancelled? My life is far more interesting than any boring old human's! Just one day from my life would be far better than a whole season of _Eastenders._ Was it the outfit? I suppose, in hindsight, I did go a little overboard with the question marks, and my seventh body was a little pudgy, Ace was always nagging me about exercising…" he trailed off, scowling.

"Is he always like that?" Harry asked, sounding amused. "Mostly," Martha answered. "Doctor, what's regeneration? What did you mean, seventh Doctor?"

"Time Lords do this thing when we're dying, we change our face, and little personality quirks change too, like fashion sense," the Doctor explained.

"Doctor," Harry said, leaning forward. Hermione didn't like his tone. It was the same one he used whenever he was proposing something he knew she would disapprove of. "You've read all the books about me," he continued. "You know how it ends."

The Doctor had apparently realised where this was going. "Harry, I can't-"

"But you know how it all ends!" Harry cried in frustration. "People are dying every day! You could just tell us how things work out and we could end all of this, end this bloody war!"

"Harry, listen to me," the Doctor said. His voice was calm and controlled, the sulky five year old of a few minutes back gone. In that moment, he inexplicably reminded her of Dumbledore. "Certain events need to take place in order for the final outcome to happen. Your life is a series of fixed points, and if I interfered, it would be catastrophic. And by catastrophic I mean blowing a hole in the universe the size of Belgium. But I can tell you this-there are seven books in your series, each for one year of your life, starting from your first year at Hogwarts. At this point in time, where you are now, is halfway through the seventh book. One way or another, it'll end soon."

Looking at his face, Hermione truly believed that he wanted to spill all he knew and save all the people who were suffering and who would suffer. She doubted she would be able to shoulder such a burden. For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger learnt that some kinds of knowledge could be a terrible burden.

"It's all right," she said softly. "We understand." To her right, Harry nodded mutely.

"We should get going," the Doctor said, jumping up suddenly. "Don't want to mess up timelines or cause multiple universes to collapse." He turned suddenly when they were at the entrance to the tent. "Hermione, I, ah, have a request," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Go on," she said.

"Could I, um, have one of your books? Any book on magic, really, it doesn't matter which-"

"Of course you can," Hermione said warmly. She could never deny anyone who wanted books. "In fact..." She had spotted the book left open on her bunk. She hurried over and handed it to him.

His jaw dropped. " _Hogwarts: A History_?!" he exclaimed, taking it from her reverently clutching it to his chest like a mother cradling her child. "But you love this book!"

"She' got the whole thing memorized anyway," Harry said dismissively, earning a hard nudge in the ribs. "It's for you, Doctor," she said.

"Oh Hermione Granger, you are absolutely, fantastically brilliant!" he cried, engulfing her in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground.

The four of them walked outside to where the TARDIS was parked. "Come on in then," the Doctor said. "Have a look." Hermione followed him and Martha inside, looking around in amazement. "It really is bigger on the inside," she whispered.

"Hermione, you've been living in a bigger on the inside tent for months," Harry said, although he sounded impressed.

"It looks different thought," Hermione addressed the Doctor, choosing to ignore Harry's comment. "Oh yes, I changed the desktop theme," he said. "Sometime the Old Girl does it herself. She loves the books about you, you know, I read to her sometimes."

"You read to your ship?" Martha asked disbelievingly.

"Of course!" he replied, affronted. "She loves a good story just as much as you and me! Speaking of stories, just a second" The Doctor dashed off down a corridor, leaving Martha shaking her head in fond exasperation.

"You know, the Doctor, Shakespeare and I once saved the world using Expelliarmus," Martha told Harry and Hermione, launching into a story involving sonnets, a lost play and evil 'witches', the last of which mildly offended the two wizards.

The Doctor came back just as Martha finished her story. He was holding a stack of books. "These are the Harry Potter books from my universe," he said. "I'm giving you the first six since you've already lived them anyway, although I've had to remove a bit from the sixth. Harry, piece of advice, if you ever see Ron again, don't let him read the sixth one. I don't think he'd appreciate your thoughts about his sister."

"That doesn't look like me at all!" Harry protested, gesturing to the cover of the first book. Hermione had to agree.

"Right then, we'd better be off," the Doctor said. Hermione reluctantly trudged out of the TARDIS, Harry dragging his feet behind her.

"Goodbye, both of you," Martha said, hugging both of them. "Don't lose hope, whatever happens. And good luck." She kissed Harry on the cheek, making him go slightly pink, and disappeared into the TARDIS.

"You're brilliant both of you," the Doctor said, beaming at both of them. "Just keep being brilliant. Oh, and a piece of advice- The things we lose often have a way of coming back to us, if not always in the way we expect. You'll understand soon."

"Just for once, can't anybody give us some direct clues?" Harry grumbled.

"Ah, but there's no fun in that, is there?" He hugged Hermione, clapped Harry on the back and stepped into the doorway of the TARDIS. He turned around to face them one last time. "Goodbye," he said. "And keep being magnificent." With that the Doctor disappeared into his blue box, which soon began dematerializing with that wonderful wheezing, groaning noise.

"D'you think there's a Narnia out there somewhere?" Harry asked abruptly as the TARDIS disappeared from view completely.

"Or a Middle-Earth," Hermione said as they began walking back to the tent.

"Or Marty McFly and Doc Brown and their DeLorean."

"Or Hercule Poirot."

"Everything," Harry said firmly. "Every story we've ever loved is out there somewhere."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, looking back at the spot the TARDIS had been standing a few minutes before. "Everything and everyone is out there, somewhere."

King's Cross Station, 1st September, 2017

A man in a brown suit and a woman in a red leather jacket stood at the junction between Platforms Nine and Ten. In fact, they had been there for forty-five minutes. Dunston, the security guard, had been a little suspicious, but after all, this was a train station. Waiting for long periods of time was not uncommon.

A family of five entered Platform Nine, the youngest child hanging onto her father and the two boys loudly bickering about something called a Slitheen, or at least that's what he thought he heard. They didn't notice the man and the woman whose eyes followed the family. The two were smiling at them with fondness and affection, yet didn't speak to them. He wondered if they were caught in some sort of family feud. The family had disappeared while he had been observing the man and the woman, who were now walking out of the station with wide grins. "They're fine," he heard the woman say happily. "Great, actually." "Yes, they are aren't they? In the end everything turned out fine. All was well."


End file.
